


the goodbye is the hardest part (when we find ourselves back at the start)

by catsinouterspace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Childhood, Gen, Time Travel, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:39:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19353412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinouterspace/pseuds/catsinouterspace
Summary: The King and his Shield are sworn to each other; duty bound but it's more than that, a bond to last a life time. Or at least it's supposed to be. When Noctis dies at the throne Gladio finds himself given another chance to make things right.





	the goodbye is the hardest part (when we find ourselves back at the start)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkTail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkTail/gifts).



> hope you enjoy :)

Gladio’s eyes were wide as saucers, sitting cross legged, hands gripping his feet as he rocked back and forth.

“Your father saved the King’s arse, chopped the beast’s head clean off!” Cor told him.

Clarus snorted, “Didn’t help too much when we realised we hadn’t even met the mother yet.”

Gladio gasped.

“Aye,” Cor nodded, “She was a nasty one that’s for sure.”

The King reclined in Clarus’ armchair, “I had to throw away those pants after I saw her.”

Clarus grinned, leaning forward to scoop Gladio up, he bounced the child on his knee, “The ground trembled as she ran towards us-“

“Regis thought it was an earthquake!” Cor snickered.

“Her claws were as long as a fully-grown man, and her teeth, well they’d eat you up for breakfast!” Clarus lifted up Gladio’s shirt tickling at the boy’s stomach, “Ah yes, your tummy would make for a delicious snack!” He declared over the kid’s peals of laughter.

“How did you survive?” Gladio asked once he’d struggled free from his father’s tickles and found himself atop the King’s lap instead.

“Your Majesty,” Clarus nodded towards the man, “Warped onto her back, began slicing at her neck.”

“Oh, man it was a site to behold!” Cor laughed, too wine drunk to describe the scenario Clarus continued the tale.

“She was mad alright, but she couldn’t reach Regis. Was leaping this way and that way, good lord knows how he managed to stay on.”

Regis ruffled Gladio's hair, “This is why you’ve got to pay close attention in your riding lessons, least basic balance become a mystery to you too.”

Clarus snorted, “Don’t think you can really compare a kujata to a chocobo. Still he managed to finally get a sword through her heart.”

“Nearly died when she fell though, if I hadn’t been able to warp I would have been squashed for sure.”

“Will my King be able to warp?” Gladio asked excitedly, already imagining the battles they’d have. 

“Aye, royal lineage always carries magic with them.” Cor said, “That and the ability to pull weapons out of their arse, something the rest of us can’t do.”

Regis rolled his eyes, “We can talk about weaponry expenditure when we’re sober Cor, I don’t want to fill Clarus’ house with business talk.”

* * *

Babies don’t do much but cry. And sleep. In his infinite three-year-old knowledge of the world Gladio is well aware of this. Right now, Noctis is, thankfully, doing the later. Gladio watches the baby in his cot, the adults are in the enjoining room talking about boring serious things. He had offered to watch Noctis, knowing that this was to be his solemn duty for life, watching a sleeping baby, however, was certainly low on the list of cool adventures they were going to have.

Still, it was a good idea to get to know the Prince early since they were sure to be best friends eventually, even if the three years between them seemed like an endless chasm. Clarus had snorted at his concern, tousling his hair, “You know Regis is seven years younger than me?” Gladio’s mouth had dropped open, once people reached a certain age they were all just old. The idea that his father had been young once, that the king had been young too, shocked him. And _seven years_ that was an infinite amount of time. When Gladio was seven Noct would be older than Gladio was now!

The baby in front of him started to fuss, not quite crying yet, but clearly working his way up to do so. Gladio paused, much to the adults' delight, he’d dragged his father to the library to get books on parenting in order to be prepared for this, but he hadn’t gotten much further than looking at the pictures. 

He leaned forward scooping up the baby, glad for his training because, despite Noctis’ small size, he was still heavy. He leaned the Prince against his chest and the baby’s little grumbles ceased, instead replaced by soft breathing. Gladio walked over to the wall, gently sliding down it with care to not to wake Noct up. He sat with his back leaning against the wall and the baby Prince against his chest. Sure, they may not yet be slaying dragons yet, but it was only a matter of time.

* * *

Gladio squinted his eyes surveying their surroundings, part of being a good warrior was being able to utilise everything in one’s arsenal, and the walls and tables surrounding him were as important as any weapon. Of course, in a real fight he may consider flipping them over or throwing them at the enemy, this training, however, had the extra challenge of having to avoid any damage to the castle. 

“Can we start yet?” Noct whined, bouncing on his toes.

Gladio grinned at the younger boy, “Do you have a game plan?” He asked, after all the point of this exercise was to teach strategy as well as combat skill.

“Run faster than you!” Noct shouted, jumping up and down a couple of times to emphasis his physical prowess.

Gladio snorted, “I’ll give you a ten second head start.” As soon as his mouth moved to say “one” Noct was off like a bat out of hell, chubby four-year-old legs racing down the corridor. His plan wouldn’t have been a flawed one if he happened to be playing with other four year olds but alas, even at seven Gladio had years of training and the advantage of long legs to back him up as he leapt after the crowned prince.

* * *

There wasn’t anything anyone could do. Their guards and then the paramedics and then the doctors had all done their best and that had led to Noctis being in this bed rather than in a coffin, but not much else. Tubes connected to him every which way, the room entertaining a constant humming and steady beeping. Gladio was told that these sounds meant that everything was going as planned, that they meant the sleeping shape might be Noct again.

It was his job to protect Noctis. Gladio _knew_ that. It was what he had been born to do. First child of the Amicitia’s, he had one path in life and that was to protect the Prince, the to be king. And he’d already failed. Noctis had been miles away, Gladio at school oblivious to what was happening when he should have been right there, laying his life down to protect Noctis, even if it meant his own death. Maybe he would have distracted the beast long enough for the boy to run. Noctis had gotten very good at tag after all - but right now one of his legs was in a complete cast, they didn’t know if he would be able to walk again. Gladio wasn’t sure if they even knew if he would survive. They had hushed conversations about the boy’s health that Gladio was deemed too young to have privy to, too young to be allowed to hear of the extent of his own failure.

* * *

Noctis wasn’t able to spend any time in the training yard, he could barely resettle himself on the bed right now so kicking arse was pretty far down the list of the doctor’s orders, and by astrals there were a lot of those. The woman always ended each session by telling Noct to make sure he got plenty of rest, the thing is before these words were about a hundred stretches Noctis had to do, and medications to take, and foods to eat. Still it wasn’t like Noct was doing much else, he spent most of his time staring listlessly out the window.

Gladio was determined to continue his role as Shield, the guilt of having failed to do so when he needed to most followed him around like a lost puppy and he was determined to shoo it off, even if right now all he had in his arsenal were books on military tactics. 

He walked into the room, pulling up a seat next to Noctis. “How are you feeling?”

“Shit.” Noctis replied, not taking his eyes off the window, as though the scenery was so encaptivating that, even after spending astrals knows how many previous hours looking out it, he couldn’t bear to drag his eyes off the scene to look at Gladio.

“I bought you some books!” Gladio tried for the cheerful approach. 

Noctis shrugged sullenly, Gladio noted that his back must be feeling better if he was prepared to expend the energy to make such a movement simply in order to be a brat. “I haven’t read the other ones.”

Gladio put the books he’d collected down on the floor, he’d spent hours scouring the shelf for tactic books that wouldn’t make your eyes fall out with boredom, despite Ignis’ assurances that they had to be more interesting to the Prince than the etiquette books Ignis read with him. _Oh._ That was an idea. “Would you like to read them with me?” 

“No.” Noctis replied.

Gladio stared at the Prince, the Prince continued to stare out the window. He popped his jaw to the side, steadily counting to ten in his head. “Have you done your stretches?”

Noctis shrugged again.

Shoulder rotations _were_ one of the prescribed exercises. “Noctis?”

“No.” 

“You know you have to do them, right?” Gladio asked.

Not even a shrug.

The older boy sighed moving to stand up, “Here, let me help.”

“I don’t need your help!” Noctis shouted.

Gladio held his hands in the air, a gesture of surrender, “Okay.” He said taking a step back.

Noctis didn’t even move.

“It’s fine if you don’t need my help to do your exercises but you still need to do them.” Gladio told the Prince, his voice measured.

Noctis didn’t respond. 

Gladio inhaled through his nose, slowly counting backwards from ten again. “Noctis.”

The prince ground his jaw, still refusing to even look at his Shield.

“You know you’re never going to get better if you refuse to follow your recovery plan.”

“I don’t want to get better!” Noct snapped. “These stupid exercises don’t make me better! They just make me hurt! And then I have to spend the rest of the day in bed to recover enough to do them all over again and nothing gets better and I should just admit that I’m going to be stuck in that stupid thing-” He gestured towards his wheel chair, briefly wincing at the pain that the movement caused him, “For the rest of my life.”

“You will be if you never even try!” Gladio snapped back.

“I did try! And it didn’t work! It’s been months.” His voice breaking on the last word.

“You can’t expect to get better right away.”

Noct just shrugged again, turning back to stare out the window, hot tears welling in his eyes.

“You just expect everything to be easy, don’t you?”

“I don’t!” Noctis yelled back.

“You won’t read the books I give you, you won’t do your exercises, you just want to sit in bed all day feeling sorry for yourself. Astrals, I wish Regis had another kid because you’re going to be the worst king ever!” 

The room went cold. “Get out!” Noctis screamed but his voice sounded closer to a sob than a shout.

“You can’t even control your stupid powers,” Gladio snarled, stalking towards the door that now had a thin layer of ice on it, he slammed it shut behind him.

* * *

 Gladio first heard about Prompto from Ignis. 

“I thought you were with Noct?” Gladio asked as he flopped down on the grass next to the other boy, resting his head on Ignis’ lap.

Ignis closed his book, he sat cross legged leaning against a tree, enjoying the rare afternoon off where his reading could be about a kidnapped alien trying to find its way back home rather than some form of decorum.

“I believe he’s with Prompto.” Ignis replied, running his hands through Gladio’s short spiked hair. _Easier to manage._ Gladio had initially shrugged off the comments about shearing his long hair off before an uncharacteristically timid admittance that the fact he looked like a boy with it short hair wasn’t so much a downside he could deal with for the convenience but part of the reason he’d chosen to do so.

Gladio jerked upright, “With _who?”_

Ignis’ eyes widened a little, “...Prompto?”

“Is he like, a new advisor or something?” Noct’s life was an endless parade of new people telling him what to do, so far none had entered without Gladio being aware of them.

“Uh, no, he’s,” Ignis looked a bit nervous, suddenly unsure if he should be telling Gladio this, he’d assumed the other teen would have been filled in on the situation. “Noctis’ friend.”

“What?” It wasn’t the most eloquent response and Gladio felt a bit bad for how shocked he was that the Prince had managed to make a friend but, well, Noct had been loner for years, content to spend what little free time he did have playing the newest video game.

“I assumed he would have told you.”

Gladio shrugged, trying to pretend that being kept out of the loop of Noct’s life didn’t bother him, “He asked to move training to this morning because he was doing stuff with you this afternoon.”

Ignis smirked at him, “And you believed that?”

Gladio groaned, collapsing back to the ground, “I should have known something was fishy when he didn’t spend twenty minutes grumbling about having to get up earlier - I just assumed he may have finally pulled his head out of his arse.”

Ignis chuckled, “Well that’s your own fault then.”

There was a moment of silence before Gladio asked, “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Ignis breathed in deeply, slowly exhaling through his nose as he stroked Gladio’s hair again, “You know you two aren’t the closest…”

Gladio didn’t respond for a second, “We were meant to be though.” The King and the Shield were sworn to each other through duty, but the bond between them was meant to be stronger than just duty, they were brothers by blood, not the same as a traditional family but the lineage was just as, if not more, sacred.

* * *

Gladio didn’t really know what to think about Prompto. He admitted, secretly to himself and no one else, that his opinion of the blond was clouded by jealousy, for Prompto so effortlessly succeeded where Gladio had not. 

The Prince _loved_ Prompto; traded in extra hours of sleep in the morning for earlier training sessions so Prompto could come over after school.

Prompto, for his part, was always so enthusiastic about doing so, following Noctis around as he snapped photos of the castle and the food that they were served. And far too many of the Prince. Gladio found himself scanning local gossip magazines to find photos that must have been taken by Prompto because why else would a photographer befriend someone of the royal family? There never was. In fact, Prompto seemed to end up in these magazines as much as Noctis did, it didn’t seem like the Prince went anywhere without him anymore.

Prompto, for his part, had been completely up front on his opinions about Gladio. “Wow, you’re massive.” Had been the blond’s first words to him. Gladio couldn’t help but preen a bit at the statement, his growth spurt had hit and he’d been working hard to make sure his muscle development didn’t fall behind. Prompto, however, seemed embarrassed by his words, “I mean that in a good way!” He quickly covered, Gladio, who had never been called fat in his life, hadn’t even considered the other connotations of the word. “It’s super great to meet you Gladio! Noct has told me a lot about you!”

Gladio raised his eyebrows, he was fairly sure if Noctis had been the teen’s only source of intel about him then Prompto’s opinions were not going to be that great. “Nice to meet you too,” He turned towards Noct who stood next to Prompto, “Noctis has told me nothing about you.”

Prompto rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly, “Ah, there’s not much to tell really.” It was clear that he took this lack of conversation as a failure on his part. Prompto scuffed his shoe on the ground a little nervously, “Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Gladio raised an eyebrow, “Go ahead.”

“Well uh, so I started running like, oh, five years ago now?”

Gladio nodded, the kid was thin but he looked healthy enough, made sense that he was a runner.

“But uh, I’d really like to get some more muscle, if you have any tips?” The last person Prompto had garnered the courage to ask for fitness tips was a classmate, sure being overweight and friendless had made it difficult to talk to the athletic popular kid but Gladio wasn’t some kid from school he was the _Prince’s Shield._

Gladio, however, seemed delighted. “Come grab something to eat with me and I’ll talk you through some beginner’s tips,” He nodded his head towards the kitchen, after all most of building muscle was about nutrition. 

Noct looked like he was about to argue, but glanced towards Prompto’s beaming face and trudged behind them to the kitchen.

* * *

Gladio watched as Clarus smacked Regis’ back with a bit too much force eliciting a spell of coughing from the man.

“I could have you tried for treason for that!” Regis laughed, “You almost made me spill my drink.”

Clarus’ laughter echoed the king’s, “It’s my scotch to waste on clumsy royalty.”

The two descended into easy bickering and it was hard to reconcile the fact that these two men were the most powerful in Insomnia.

Gladio sipped slowly at his beer, things had gotten better between him and Noctis, the teen wasn’t as much of a brat as he had previously been and getting him to training was a little less comparable to pulling teeth than it had previously been. Still, they hardly had the easy comradery that Regis and Clarus did. Gladio sometimes grabbed a meal with Prompto and the Prince if Iggy was cooking but the thought of inviting Noctis out to go drinking, even once the Prince became of age, was not one that really crossed his mind.

Regis turned to face Gladio, “I trust you haven’t been having nights like this with Noctis yet?” He enquired.

Gladio shook his head, “No sir.”

“He’ll be 18 in a couple of months, just make sure he doesn’t completely neglect his duties!”

Gladio nodded solemnly, even though he was fairly sure his interaction with the Prince wasn’t going to change much once he was allowed to drink.

His father and Regis broke into more laughter about some shenanigan or another that they had gotten up to when they had been Noctis and Gladio’s age and for a second Gladio couldn’t help but remember what he had thought his relationship with Noct would be.

Gladio sighed, tipping back the rest of his beer he made a promise to himself that he was going to at least try to make friends with Noct, after all he was still sworn to spend a life time with the Prince whether he liked him or not. 

* * *

“Good work today Noct,” Gladio praised the Prince who was lying flat on his back.

“You’ve killed me.”

“Core strength is an integral part of your training, not my fault if you’ve been slacking on the sit ups.”

Noct let out a long low groan, “I swear it would have been easier to kill a dragon than do those dragon flags.”

Gladio laughed, he flopped onto the ground so he was lying next to Noctis, “Don’t you have school or something to get to?”

“Nup,” Noctis popped the p, “Staff development day, I’m meeting up with Prompto at the arcade but not till noon.” He turned his head to glare at Gladio, “Might give me enough time to at least _partially_ recover.”

“Oh, if I’ve done my job right, and I always do, you’ll be sore for a few more days.”

“I’m pretty sure purposefully injuring royalty is treason.” Noct joked, and for a moment Gladio was transported to the conversation between Regis and Clarus a few months ago.

“Talking of the next couple of days, you’re going to finally be an adult! I remember when you were so itty bitty and cute.”

Noctis rolled over so he could shove his Shield.

“I’m sure you and the blond have plans but if you wanted to grab a birthday lunch or something, Squid’s does a fantastic ice cream cake.”

Noctis paused for a second, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. He and Gladio got along a lot better than they used to but that was more a compatible working relationship than a friendship. He could count on one hand the number of time they’d hung out outside of training or meals that Iggy had invited them both too.

“We’re not friends Gladio.” Noct nearly flinched away from the words as they tumbled out of his mouth, he hadn’t mean for them to sound so harsh.

Gladio nodded once, “Right.” He said before bouncing up to his feet, “Well I’ll see you for training tomorrow then, don’t stay up too late with Prompto."

Once out of hearing range Gladio let out a spew of expletives, how could he be so stupid? Of course, he and Noctis couldn’t be friends like his father and Regis because Noctis was a spoilt brat who had managed to make one singular friend in his entire school life, it was _hardly_ Gladio’s fault that they didn’t have a close bond.

* * *

Ignis meets Gladio’s eyes, raising his eyebrows and fixing him with a disappointed frown.

“What?” Gladio snapped. 

Ignis doesn’t respond but his facial expression doesn’t change.

Gladio rolled his eyes, slouching back into his camp chair where the two sat by the fire, the only members of their squad still remaining outside, Prompto having gone to bed several hours ago and Noctis having just stormed off to join him.

“You may as well just say whatever you’re thinking.” 

“You’re too harsh on him.”

“Someone needs to tell him to get his shit together, and you’re certainly not.”

“Gladio.” Ignis stared at him for half a beat, “Insomnia just fell, his father was killed, he’s not going to be at his best.”

Gladio snorted derisively, “You think I don’t realise that? Fuck Iggy, just because no one’s bothered to report on it we both know my dad’s dead, and who knows if Iris made it out alive?”

Ignis nodded, “I know that Gladio, but not everyone can just compartmentalise things like you.”

“Oh, what so I’m supposed to let him put us all, put the fate of the world itself, in danger because he’s sad?”

“Sometimes yelling isn’t the best way to get people on side, Gladio.”

Gladio shrugged, it wasn’t like he hadn’t _tried_ other tactics with Noct. “Look I don’t really care if his majesty is on my _side,”_ Gladio spat out the word, “As long as he doesn’t end up fucking us all over."

* * *

Then Noctis is gone.

* * *

Noctis’ return is bittersweet; the reunion becoming a long prophesied march to death before Gladio has time to even fully realise he's back. Noctis wasn’t going to bring the light back and live to enjoy it, they all knew that. The three of them still being around, however, was a bit of a shock.

They entered the throne room for the first time in more than a decade. Gladio stared at the base of the King’s throne, a trickle of blood dripping from the leg onto the floor, for half a second he wished he had Ignis’ eyes. Gladio inhaled slowly through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut he raised his head so it was level with the throne, opening them to see Noctis slumped forward in his seat, a sword deep in his chest.

Prompto started to run to Noct, grabbing his hand and pressing it to his forehead. Gladio wanted nothing more than to be as far away from the corpse as possible, a testimony to his failure as a Shield, for if Noctis had to die he should have gone with him.

Ignis grabbed Gladio’s arm as if reading the other man’s thoughts, “We have to take him to the tombs.”

Gladio walks forward on autopilot, one foot in front of the other. He reached Noctis far too soon but even if the throne room had required a thousand-mile traverse Gladio knew it would feel the same. He picked up Noctis’ limp form, carrying him down to the Royal tombs below; he wondered if Regis had made it there.

* * *

Gladio woke up feeling oddly rested, blinking in the harsh sunlight that his eyes were no longer accustomed to, he squeezed them shut again, letting himself adjust to the light through closed lids first. He couldn’t remember moving to a bed last night, maybe Iggy or Prom had managed to carry him. He briefly snorted at the idea of the pair trying to heave him to a room. 

_It was over then._

He swallowed deeply, it had been coming for a long time now but that didn’t mean he had been prepared.

Gladio stretched out, opening his eyes again. The arm in front of his face was thin and the skin was plain, free from the ink that usually adorned it. Gladio froze. He waggled his fingers and the hand in front of him did the same. He shot bolt upright. He actually fit in this bed rather than hanging off it, and the room was familiar. 

Gladio groaned flopping back onto the mattress, a dream then. He had never had a dream in which he was aware that it wasn’t reality before. He tentatively dragged his hands to his chest, feeling his stomach twist as he didn’t feel the usual hard muscle there.

Gladio dragged himself out of bed, and swung open the closet door, hoping that his subconscious was imagining his binder being in the same draw it had been in when he still needed it. He was shocked at how familiar his cupboard looked, right down to the faded peeling chocobo stickers Iris had decorated his draw set with. Gladio shrugged to himself, he supposed it made sense considering this was a world of his own creation.

He pulled his binder on, taking a few seconds to remember what it was like to breath with it on _._ Fuck, he’d forgotten what a pain in the arse these things were. He sighed pulling on a new shirt, he was half way through putting his pants on when he asked himself what he was even doing. There was the real world to deal with now, Prompto and Ignis would need him.

Gladio squeezed his eyes shut _wake up, wake up, wake up_ , he urged himself. He opened them to find himself still hovering in his room, one leg in his pants. He dropped them to the ground and pinched himself. It hurt but otherwise nothing changed. Okay. _Think._ Gladio held his hand up in front of his face, he inhaled deeply through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as he slapped himself. 

“Fucking astrals!” Gladio was briefly thankful that dream him was nowhere near as strong as the real him. Still, his entire face was stinging.

“Gladio?” A voice called, “You okay?”

Gladio felt his stomach flip. “Yeah just,” He flinched at how high pitched and foreign his voice sounded, “Uh, tripped.” Gladio grabbed his pants again pulling them on quickly he all but ran to the kitchen.

Clarus was flipping over an egg on the pan. 

“Dad?” He asked, his voice sounding like it was about to break.

“Yeah kiddo?” The man turned to him, spatula in one hand, his grin falling from his face as he saw the expression on Gladio’s.

Gladio, however, was already flinging himself at his father wrapping his arms around him, “Wow there,” The older man wrapped his hands around his son in return, “You doing okay?”

Gladio nodded into his chest, not lessening his grip, willing himself not to start crying, “Just glad to see you is all.” Gladio pulled back from the hug to study his father’s face. Clarus didn’t look quite like he remembered, younger, less worried by the world, the way he had looked when Gladio was a kid. _Oh_. That made sense considering the premise of the rest of his dream.

Clarus’ face was wrinkled in concern, “Are you sure?” 

Gladio nodded again, “Yeah.” He inhaled deeply, “Smells _fantastic_.” Probably not as good as Iggy’s cooking, but then again, nothing was.

Clarus smiled at his son, forehead still wrinkled in concern “Go and wake Iris and I’ll dish up.”

 _Iris._ Gladio ran up the stairs opening the door to see Iris’ sleeping form, _astrals_ _she couldn’t be older than ten_. He walked over to sit on the bed and shook her shoulder gently, “Hey there munchkin.”

“Gladdy?” She asked opening her eyes slowly, blinking away the confusion.

“Yeah.”

Iris quickly sat up jumping out of bed with the sort of energy that only little kids could muster so quickly after getting up, she ran to her closet to pull out a bright orange dress, _shit,_ she must be only eight then. Gladio recalled Iris wearing that dress every day for several months at that age; apart from Sunday when their father would wrestle it from her to have it washed.

“Has Daddy made breakfast yet?”

“Sure has, and he said you better get your butt down there right now or he’s going to eat it all!”

“He did not!” Iris protested but she was still out the door like a shot, racing down the stairs.

Gladio grinned running after her.

* * *

Gladio rubbed the tea towel over the plate that Clarus handed him, “When are you and Noctis training today?”

 _Noctis_. Gladio’s stomach felt like it was folding in on itself, he had been so taken aback by seeing his father again that he had momentarily ceased to think about the Prince. “I uh, I have to go.”

Clarus said something about being more mindful of the times of his appointments but Gladio didn’t really hear it, he was already half way out the door, sprinting towards the castle. It wasn’t a very far distance from his home but by the time he got there he was sweaty and uncomfortable, remembering exactly why it wasn’t recommended to exercise while wearing a binder.

He took the stairs two at a time, his legs were much shorter than usual and he nearly fell flat on his face as he misjudged the distance.

Gladio raced along the corridor to Noctis’ room swinging the door open to where the Prince was asleep on his bed.

Noctis woke up with a start, “What the hell?” He asked, glancing at the clock to confirm the time, “It’s a Saturday, we don’t have training until eleve-“

Noctis was cut off as Gladio all but threw himself at the Prince wrapping him in a hug.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Noctis shoved Gladio to the side.

Gladio moved away, _damn subconscious not letting him have a touching moment with Noct_.

“I, uh, I’m just glad to see you.” Gladio said awkwardly.

“Yeah well, that makes one of us.” Noctis glared at him, “I’ll be at training okay? You don’t have to make yourself talk to me outside of it.”

 _Ouch_. Okay, Gladio knew that Noctis and him hadn’t been exactly close when they were young, or ever, but still this was a bit harsh. “Right, um, yeah I’ll see you then.”

 

Gladio caught Iggy in the kitchen on his way back to his house, the boy was scowling at a mouth-watering tart he had just pulled out of the oven.

“Are you going to offer me a slice or just glare at it?” Gladio asked leaning against the kitchen door, inhaling the smell of pastry and butter.

“I just can’t get the stupid pastry right!” Ignis looked shocked for a second at his own outburst before gesturing to the cupboard that held the plates, “Help yourself to as much as you want, this is the _third_ failure _this morning_.”

Gladio raised his eyebrows, Ignis had a natural gift in the kitchen making delicious meals from all sorts of odd shit they found on their adventures, unless… “Is this your famous cherry filo tart?” Gladio asked, nearly drooling at the thought of taking a huge slice of the pastry in front of them.

Ignis let out a soft groan, “So the chefs have been talking about my incompetency then?” 

“Wha-“ _Oh._ Gladio realised that the tart had yet to come into its full glory, “Ah no, I just heard it was really good,” Gladio busied himself getting a couple of plates, “And I’m sure once you’ve got the pastry right it’ll be really famous.”

He served himself and Ignis a decent portion of the tart despite Ignis’ claims that he didn’t want any. “The filling is just as important, isn’t it? And I’m sure you’ve nailed that.” 

“Hey Iggy?” Gladio asked around a mouthful of tart that, while a far cry from what he knew the final product would be, was delicious.

“Yeah?”

“I uh-,” Gladio paused for a second, unsure how to word this, before deciding _fuck it_ it’s a dream so it didn’t really matter if Ignis thought he was insane. “Was wondering why Noct was so pissed at me today?”

Ignis arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, Gladio realised with a bit of a start that he really had not missed the other man’s scrutinising stare. “I’m fairly sure the whole castle and any nearby suburbs could hear your little screaming match yesterday.”

“Oh.” Gladio pursed his lips for a second, considering the situation, “What exactly where we yelling about again?”

Ignis looked at him with an even more judgemental expression than before, if that was even possible, “I think the term you used describe Noctis was “entitled, ungrateful, spoilt brat.””

 _Ah_. Come to think about it that _did_ sound like what sixteen-year-old Gladio would call an accurate description of the crowned Prince.

“You really shouldn’t be so harsh on him, Gladiolus.”

Gladio knew he really fucked up when Ignis brought out his full name, “You’re right.”

Ignis seemed briefly taken aback by Gladio’s agreement, “Right well, I’m going to try to make another tart before I’ve got etiquette lessons with the Prince in question.”

Gladio glanced at his watch, “Yeah I’ve got to head to training with him as well.”

* * *

 Noctis walked into the training room at exactly eleven o’clock, not a minute early and not a minute late. He looked _miserable_.

“Hey Noct.” Gladio said brightly, hoping that in the next hour he would be able to smooth over the tension between them.

“What do you want me to do today?” Noctis skipped past the pleasantries.

Gladio realised that he had nothing planned in terms of exercise, he also realised he had nothing planned in terms of how to befriend Noctis. “Well I uh,” Gladio took a deep breath, even with an extra fifteen odd years of life experience he hadn’t grown great at apologising, especially because he wasn’t entirely sure of the context of what he was apologising _for._ “I just wanted to say I was sorry for yelling at you yesterday, I lost my cool, and that wasn’t fair on you.” It was a vague enough response that it covered all grounds while not completely taking the blame off the Prince if he _had_ done something worthy of the screaming match.

Noctis’ eyes widened slightly, “Whatever.”

Okay, so not the emotional reunion he had been hoping to have with Noctis, but he’d take it. “I was thinking of doing some upper body strength training, fifteen reps and three sets of lat pulldowns, bicep curls, and pec flies.”

Noctis began warming up, stretching forward, Gladio did the same, falling into an uncomfortable silence with the young Prince. 

He raised an eyebrow when Noctis grabbed a dumbbell and the Prince sighed and replaced it with a heavier one, chronically choosing the easiest path possible was not something that Noctis had ever really outgrown, not until-

Gladio cut that thought off, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. He distracted himself by grabbing his usual dumbbell, holding it for about half a second before dropping it to the floor, the crash of the weight echoing around the room.

Noctis let out a snort.

Gladio rolled his eyes, “At least I’m trying to challenge myself.” He griped, moving to struggle to place the thing back on the racks. _Fuck what could this body actually lift?_   

The entirety of the workout was done in silence, Gladio struggling to figure out the limitation of his sixteen-year-old body _had he really been like this? Or was his subconscious just making him out to be worse than he was?_ And Noctis well, Noctis just seemed content to be able to avoid conversing with Gladio.

 

Gladio let out a groan flopping onto his bed, his arms and back were _killing_ him. If pinching hadn’t done the trick than that work out really should have. He lay on his bed feeling ready to collapse into sleep but he had a feeling that sleep here would lead to being awake in the real world and he wanted to see his father just one more time before that. Clarus wasn’t home yet and Gladio had no idea how long he’d be, he’d left a note directing Gladio to the lasagne in the oven, telling him that Iris was staying at a friend’s and that he would be late in discussions with the King. Gladio stared at his clock, meetings on strategy could last well into the next day if the stakes were high and the opinions of the senators were conflicting.

* * *

Gladio woke with a start, sun rushing into his room, memories of his dream filling his head, a wave of guilt crashing over him as he realised he hadn’t managed to stay awake long enough to say goodbye to his father.  

As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, Gladio realised that the room around him wasn’t part of a dusty and crumbling castle, the body he inhabited was still shorter and skinnier than he was used too. Gladio inhaled deeply through his nose, _try, try, try again, right?_   Swinging his flat palm towards his cheek with all the strength he could muster. He yelped in response to the stinging pain, but he didn’t jolt awake in another bed.

He rubbed at his cheek hoping that there was no apparent redness, and swung his legs off the side of the bed and padded towards his cupboard, eyes tactically avoiding the mirror on his way. He pulled his binder over his head, he’d been so caught up on being back in the crowned city that wasn’t crumbling that his brain hadn’t had time to catch him up on exactly how _much_ he hated being in his pre-t, pre-top surgery body.

Yesterday Gladio had decided to let Noct enjoy his Sunday, by giving him the next day off. He hadn’t really been expecting to still be here then, and now Gladio found himself without any plans or duties to fulfil for the day. A perfect chance to hit the library and see if he could get some answers.

Gladio made himself a coffee, leaving the coffee plunger full knowing that after the night his father had previously, he’d surely need the caffeine kick to stay awake during the day’s meetings, before taking off towards the library. It was only a 15-minute jog to the building but Gladio made a mental note to start carrying around a sports bra to change in and out of. Though the thought made his stomach churn, he was nowhere near buff enough right now that he could play his chest off as pecs. But also, why did it even matter? It wasn’t as though everyone in his life hadn’t known him since he was a very young child. But _still._

His internal dilemma was interrupted by a cheerful, “Hello Gladio! I was wondering when you’d be in! We got the new John Clancy book yesterday.”

Gladio grinned back at the librarian by the name of Casey, a little old lady who had been working there for as long as he could remember, he felt a pang of guilt realising he hadn’t even considered what had happened to her when Insomnia fell. “Oh, I’ll be sure to check it out!” even though he’d read the book nearly a hundred times before, after all it was one of his favourites. “I was actually looking for some information about, um, a story I heard when I was a kid.”

“Oh?” Casey turned towards her computer, putting the glasses that hung around her neck on a chain onto her nose, her hands hovering above the keyboard.

“Yeah it was about this uh Astral, I think, um that sent this person back in time.”

“Oh, you’re thinking of Ramuh, dear.” Casey told him without even having to type anything down, “He has been known to grant something to mortals when one pays a great price to follow a necessary destiny, in some tales he sends a mortal back in time so they can face their destiny with less regrets.”

Gladio blinked. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting but that was a bit _too_ on point. Apart from he wasn’t the mortal that had had to face destiny, that was Noct. Not that one could send Noct back in time now. Gladio swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as his mind supplied him with images of Noctis on the throne. “Ah yeah. That sounds familiar, do you have any books on him?”

* * *

Gladio lay on his stomach in the living room, surrounded by books open to relevant pages. The hero goes back in time so she can say goodbye to her mother properly, the hero is given time on earth after his death so he can see his son as an adult, the hero feels no pain as she dies in order to save the world, the hero stumbles upon riches she can give to a family she has to leave behind. Basically, Ramuh tends to soften the blow that destiny dealt. Gladio didn’t feel like the blow was being softened.  

Every time he closed his eyes he saw Noct on the throne, and he couldn’t even tell anyone about it. The Prince’s fall was prophesied but no one had really known how it would play out. Gladio wants to scoop up the young boy and shield him from the future to come but he was pretty sure if he tried that Noctis was going to put a few of the combat moves Gladio had been teaching him into practice. _Training him to face his own death._

Gladio flopped onto his back and covered his eyes with his hands letting out a soft moan, he was being given another chance at making things right between him and Noct; he couldn’t just spit on Ramuh’s offer. Even if he _knew_ how this would all end. 

* * *

Gladio forced a grin as Noct made his way into the training room, a quick glance at the clock confirmed he was nearly twenty minutes late, which gave them less than half of their scheduled time. 

Noctis looked like he was still half asleep.

“Hey Noct, you feeling okay?”

Noctis opened his mouth to respond but let out a yawn instead, nodding in reply.

“I was thinking we should work on some basic blocks today.”

Noctis nodded again but Gladio was fairly sure he would have gotten the same response if he’d told Noct they’d be fighting a crusade against purple elephants.

“Try and hit me.”

 _That_ perked Noctis up. The boy swung at him. _Hard._ His action was clear and readable and Gladio didn’t need to work particularly hard to dodge him, taking a single step back.

“Again.”

Noctis tried to punch him a few more times, Gladio waiting with his arms crossed for a move that would require an actual response from him, when Noctis swung his leg to try and kick him, deflecting attention from this by swinging round to punch him again too. Gladio grabbed his leg and flipped the prince onto his back.

“Good try,” Gladio grunted offering his hand to the Prince and pulling Noctis back to his feet. “My turn.”

Gladio, however, was not a thirteen-year-old with apparent anger issues, his swing was a lot gentler and slower than it would be in an actual combat situation. 

Noctis grabbed his arm with both hands, freezing once he’d done so.

“Alright, if you’re going to do that you’ve got to have a follow through because both your hands are occupied and,” Gladio tapped him lightly on the side with his other hand.

Noctis let go and took a step back, eyebrows drawn together and scowling. 

“Look if you try and hit me a little slower I can explain some blocking moves rather than just fending for my life.” Gladio offered.

“Fine.” It _didn’t_ sound like Noctis actually found it fine. The Prince moved his fist towards him in exaggerated slow motion.

“Okay the easiest response when it comes to blocking is always move out of the way,” Gladio took a step to the side and Noctis let his hand fall back to his side, “but while that may be good for de-escalating scenes, sometimes that’s not always an option and you want to remain in close proximity,” Gladio stepped back into Noctis’ space, “in order to be able to hit back. Swing at me again.”

Noctis did. 

Gladio held his arm straight against his body, hitting Noctis’ wrist with his arm, “Depending on how hard your opponent punches this’ll still sting but a whole lot less than if their first connected with your face. And you’re holding one of their arms away from them so unless they’re quick with their non-dominant hand you’ll be able to,” Gladio gently bumped Noctis’ face with an enclosed fist. “I was planning on adding in some sparring but you’ve got to head to school.”

Noctis looked resigned to an upcoming lecture. Gladio sighed, even though he kind of wanted to give one he _knew_ where that got him. “I was thinking, you’re not really a morning person.”

“No shit.” Noctis griped.

“We could move your lessons to after school.”

“Oh, yeah between Ignis’ lessons, and homework, and whatever counsellor wants to tell me how to be King?”

Gladio shrugged, “Training room has lights and tiring you out late might help you sleep better.” It was a routine they hadn't worked out until years later previously.

Noctis kicked at the ground with his toe, “Yeah, maybe.”

“I’ll talk to Iggy about your schedule then, see if I can fit some training in tomorrow afternoon instead.”

* * *

“Hey,” Clarus greeted Gladio as he entered the house, “Long training session? I was just about to put your plate in the fridge.

Gladio hurt all over, he tended to stay back after Noctis, working on building some of his old (future?) muscle back. “I’m pretty sure the only time Noctis doesn’t hate training is when he actually manages to hit me.” Gladio muttered taking the plate gratefully from his father. 

Noctis was certainly _less_ late when they switched to afternoon training, but his attitude hardly improved. He did what he was told but begrudgingly, the only thing he actually put effort into was hitting Gladio.

Gladio upped the amount of combat training just so he could see a little passion from Noct, even if he wasn’t entirely sure that Noct’s desire to try and beat the shit out of him was exactly a good thing.

Otherwise the teen was still distant and reluctant and Gladio wanted to grab him and shake him, scream _can’t you see I’m trying_ at him.

Clarus snorted, “Yeah teenagers are like that.”

Gladio rolled his eyes, as he took a place at the table, Clarus pulling up a chair next to him. Gladio pushed the food around with his fork.

“I’d expect you’d be hungry after so much training.”

“It’s just,” Gladio bit his lip, “You and Regis are such good friends.”

“Ah.” Clarus nodded. “Training him was pretty similar to start with, did I tell you about the time he broke my nose?”

“What!?” Gladio was on his second life time with his father and he couldn’t believe this wasn’t a story that the man had deigned fit to share with him before.

“Yep. Was going to teach him some blocking techniques and told him to hit me. He did.”

Gladio snorted, “If Noct was a bit more competent I’d have the same story.”

Clarus smiled softly at his son, “You have to remember that Noctis didn’t have an easy childhood.”

Gladio paused, in his mind, it had been decades since his accident but in this world, it was only a few years. 

“Hard to get good at combat when you have to spend years relearning how to walk.”

Gladio felt a surge of guilt, Clarus wasn’t wrong, he knew better than anyone how demanding Noct’s recuperation had been, both physically and mentally.

“I just want him to like me.” 

“It takes time Gladio.”

* * *

“Iiiiiiggy.” Gladio whined at the bespectacled man who was perched on his couch reading.

Ignis raised an eyebrow in response. Gladio lay sprawled across the floor on his back, the book that had been previously keeping him occupied now bookmarked and placed to the side. “Yes?”

Time did not seem to be enough. Noctis showed up to their training, did what he was required to, and left, there was hardly the blossoming of a friendship happening there, even as Gladio tried to make the sessions more fun. Nothing he did seemed to make any difference, and so he turned to the advisor who Noct actually seemed to _like._ “Why does Noct hate me?”

“On the contrary I think your relationship with Noctis has improved immensely.”

Gladio sat upright at this, “Wait really? Did he say something?”

“Weell…” Ignis trailed off, glancing to the side, looking like the picture of guilt.

“Ignis.”

“It’s less about what he says and what he uh, doesn’t say anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Gladio asked indignantly.

“Noctis doesn’t have many friends Gladio, so by default I became someone he could vent his frustrations too.”

“What did he say about me?”

“Everything I was told was in confidence, Gladio,” Ignis reprimanded the other boy’s snooping, “Besides he hasn’t complained about you for a while.”

Gladio rolled his eyes, “Oh I’m _so_ glad that our relationship has gone from outright hatred to indifference.”

“Oh, I am too,” Ignis smirked at him, “Means I only need to listen to one of you complain about the other.”

Gladio glared at him, “How’s your filo pastry going?” He snarked back.

Ignis snorted, “You know you two are just as petty as each other, right?”

Gladio didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Do you want my advice?”

Gladio wasn’t sure he did anymore... but nothing else had worked, “Why do you think I asked in the first place?”

“You need to show Noct that you actually give a shit about him.”

“Oh, because the hours I spend working on training plans that’ll be fun and also help him protect himself, not to mention the hours I spend _actually training him,_ or the time I spend training myself to _protect him_ doesn’t count?” Gladio’s _whole life_ was giving a shit about Noctis, every moment was spent either helping the Prince become better or making himself better _for_ the Prince.

“No.” Ignis said bluntly.

Gladio opened his mouth. And then shut it. And opened it again. And shut it again. Ignis just stared at him patiently, waiting for the other to process his words.

“So, then what?”

“Do something with him that isn’t directly linked to training, you know the thing you’re obliged to do by birth?”

 _Okay, Ignis_ may _have a point._ Gladio also realised that he really didn’t know what Noctis did with his spare time, apart from, “I don’t play video games and I _hate_ fishing.”

Ignis snorted, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” 

* * *

“I uhh, wasn’t sure what you liked so I bought a collection.” Gladio held up a bag filled with movies of various genres, after sweet-talking Cassy into allowing him to circumvent the libraries no more than three DVDs policy. 

Noctis stood in the doorway of his room, he blinked once at Gladio, eyes flickering down to the bag he was holding and then back to his face, “I didn’t realise you were serious.”

“Well, I uh,” Gladio held up the bag in his other hand, “bought popcorn, Iggy said you liked it with paprika.”

That seemed to do the trick, Noctis opened the door the rest of the way padding back to his bed. It was clear that, even if Noctis hadn’t been expecting the night to be shared with Gladio, he’d prepared for a night in. A half empty bag of chips and a large bottle of soft drink sat on his bedside table, at least he could tell Ignis that Noctis got his servings of veggies for the day, even if they may be through potatoes and corn.

Gladio placed the popcorn next to Noctis’ snacks and began laying out the DVD’s on Noctis’ bed. “So, I’ve got some fantasy, some sci-fi, a bit of action, oh and some romance-”

Noctis snorted.

“What?” Gladio asked defensively, “For all I know you’re a secret Nicholas Spark’s fanboy.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah, you’ve exposed my darkest secret.” 

“I knew it!” Gladio declared triumphantly, “But for real do you have any preferences?”

Noctis stared at the movies for a long moment before grabbing one of the Mission Impossibles on offer, “Haven’t seen this one yet.”

 

They were on their third Mission Impossible movie, after a pit stop to get more popcorn when Noct asked, “Did you seriously just want to watch movies?”

Gladio paused before answering, swallowing down his mouthful of popcorn, “I mean, yeah?”

“But we never hang out.”

Gladio raised his eyebrows, “That’s kind of the point of this.”

“So, like, no lecture on how I can’t be like these guys,” Noctis gestured at the TV screen, where the main guy was currently holding on to an airplane as it took off “unless I,” he dropped his voice into a poor imitation of Gladio’s, “pull my shit together in training.”

Gladio let himself preen for half a second that Noctis’ imitation now included an extra gruff voice, waiting for the past year to get back on t had drove him crazy, before reacting to the rest of the statement. “I really don’t think you should be jumping onto moving planes with no safety gear regardless of how well trained you are.”

Noct shrugged, “I could just warp down.”

“Kind of takes away the cinematic glory if you do that.” Gladio smiled at him, “But seriously, I really just wanted to hang, it’s my job to make sure you’re not slacking in training, but we can still be friends.”

Noctis didn’t look like he totally trusted that but he returned his attention to the movie, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

 

Gladio woke up at exactly seven, his body clock may as well have been dialled to the clocks of the citadel.

He automatically stretched out on the bed, hitting a sleeping Noctis, the other boy grunted in response. “What do you want?”

“Oh uh,” Gladio hadn’t meant to wake the Prince up, “I was just going to head out for a run if you wanted to come?”

Noctis pulled the blanket up and over his head entirely, “Should have known I couldn’t actually get through a night without you bringing up training.”

“What? Hey, that’s not how I meant it.”

“I mean congrats you were a lot more subtle than I thought you’d be, my bad for thinking that you actually just wanted to hang-“

“-I did just want to hang!”

“-but the only thing you actually care about is me being good enough that all the adults think you’re the _best.”_ The boy spat out the last word, face still completely hidden by the blanket.

_Are you fucking kidding?_

“Fine.” Gladio stalked out the door, any thought of a proper run leaving his head as he bolted back home.

He slammed the door behind him a bit too hard, collapsing on the couch, he buried his face in one of the decorative pillows that had a delightful stitching of a chocobo on it, and screamed.

“You doing alright?”

Gladio jumped at the noise, jerking into a sitting position, leaning against the door frame was his father, who was whisking some form of batter.

“I didn’t think you’d be up.” He replied guiltily.

Clarus shrugged, “Iris wanted pancakes, there’ll be plenty if you want some too,” He glanced at the chocobo pillow his son had been screaming into, “Sounds like you could use some.”

* * *

Two weeks after the fated movie night Gladio decided enough was enough. Noctis was sitting on the bench, head between his knees, focusing on taking deep breaths to ground himself, warping still made him feel like he’d taken the most epic rollercoaster after going a bit too hard at the candy store. 

“You know it’s not to impress the adults, right?”

Noctis took a moment to raise his head enough to glower at Gladio, before promptly returning to his initial position, least he projectile vomit everywhere again.

“It’s about training you for what’s coming. The only way that I can keep you safe,” Gladio’s voice stuttered over this word, because he _knew_ what happened and _safe_ wasn’t a descriptor he could ever apply to that. “Is by helping you know how to keep yourself safe.”

“ _What’s coming.”_ Noctis sat upright, glad his stomach didn’t feel like it was going to betray him anymore, “Gladio you’re _three_ years older than me, what the _fuck_ do you know?”

Gladio pursed his lip, _I know that you’re a brat._ He opened his mouth to say as much but Noctis was rocking forward again and after the last vomiting incident the room had smelt off for _days,_ deciding that he cared more about the state of the training room than how satisfying it’d be to yell at Noct he stormed out of the room.

Clarus raised an eyebrow at him as he marched into the house, moving silently to the kitchen he returned five minutes later with a cup of tea, “Royalty, am I right?”

* * *

“He _swore_ at me Iggy, is he swearing now? Does he do this to you?”

Ignis' face was kept completely straight, the epitome of proper, “Well, as his advisor one of my main roles is informing him of how to act correctly, and swearing is out of the question, and that, of course, means he does it all the time.”

Gladio snorted, “Astrals, I’m so glad he’s not just _my_ problem child.”

Ignis laughed, “Look as long as he minds his tongue around councilmen and the press he can do what he wants.”

“Ugh, he’s just such a _brat.”_

Ignis laughed, “You’re such a mother hen, you know that, right?”

Gladio spluttered, Ignis, _Ignis_ who cooked and cleaned and chased after the boy, _Ignis_ who Noct actually _liked_ thought that _Gladio_ was the mother hen?

Ignis turned to him, ringing his hands together anxiously, “Noctis has started to _swear,”_ He placed the back of his hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back, “Is my precious boy _really_ so far gone?”

Gladio shoved the other boy who was letting out peals of laughter, “Shut up.”

“Anyway, he’s starting high school soon of course he’s growing up,” Ignis couldn’t help himself as he grasped at his chest, “And, oh so fast.”

Gladio rolled his eyes in response, before slapping Ignis on the back, “Glad I don’t have to try and get him to keep his grades up.” Gladio smiled.

“Ughhhh don’t remind me.” Ignis' face softened, "But seriously Gladio, you guys are doing fine, just don't yell at him too much."

Gladio rolled his eyes, leaning his head against Ignis' shoulder, he made a compelling point, Gladio supposed that there was a reason Ignis was the Prince's advisor.

* * *

“Good work Noct!” Gladio held his hand out for a high five, the Prince slapping his palm to his with a little less enthusiasm than the average high five required. “Your combat skills are really improving." 

Gladio had the ache of what he was sure would be a bruise to prove that. Noct’s warp skills were improving enough that he could actually use them in battle rather than feeling too sick to stand after flashing to the other side of the room.

“See you tomorrow afternoon?” He asked.

“Uh about that,” Noctis hesitated for a moment, “I was wondering if we could switch to morning training?”

“Really?” Noctis volunteering to be awake earlier than the last minute possible was not something Gladio was accustomed to.

“Yeah, I’m um, meeting a friend at the arcade.”

Gladio raised his eyebrows, Noct was notoriously a loner, always had been, apart from, _oh._ It had been years and trying to remember specific events felt like swimming through honey at this point. 

“A friend?”

Noctis rolled his eyes, “I _am_ capable of making them.”

“Hey, my best friend is eight years younger than me and she’s _required_ to think I’m cool.”

Noctis snorted, “I don’t think Iris thinks your cool.”

Gladio clasped at his chest, mouth gaping open in horror, “How could you?” He then let his face fall back into a casual gin, ruffling Noct’s sweaty hair.

“Hey!” The Prince protested.

“Seriously though thanks for telling me, I’m sure you two’ll have fun.”

* * *

 Noctis whooped from his position on top of the roof.

 Gladio snorted, “Alright you win this one, come on down.”

There was a moment’s silence before a sheepish, “I can’t. Need to wait for my MP to reload.”

Gladio laughed, “Princely powers can’t get you everywhere.” He eyed the pathway up to the roof top before running towards the wall, taking a leap upwards he grabbed at the water pipe that ran down the wall, using it to haul himself up high enough to grab at the gutter, he pulled himself up onto the roof beside Noctis.

“Now we’re both stuck.” Noctis snorted.

“Nah, some of us don’t need to rely on magic to get around.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, “It’s a bit harder when you’re not eight foot tall.”

“Excuuuses excuses.” Gladio sing-songed, he smiled at Noct though, knocking his shoulder against the Prince’s, “But seriously, I’m proud of you, you’ve come a long way.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Gladio rolled his eyes, “A year ago you would have projectile vomited _all_ over the pavement.”

* * *

“Hey Gladio?”

“Yeah?” Gladio looked up from where he was sprawled on the ground reading a book to see the Prince hovering over him. He sat upright and patted the ground beside him, Noctis flopped to the ground.

“What ‘cha reading?”

“Journey of the Hero.”

Noctis raised his eyebrows.

Gladio snorted, “Yeah it’s about as typical as it sounds, lots of dragons.”

“I was planning on heading off this weekend,” Noctis changed the conversation before Gladio could launch into a speech about the book.

“Ah, you finish high school and you’re instantly taking off.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, “Well I couldn’t do schoolies because that would be,” Noctis raised his two hands to make finger quotes, “A logistical nightmare for security.”

“They weren’t wrong Noct.”

“I know,” Noctis sighed, “Just would have been nice to be able to do normal things for once.”

Gladio nodded, he’d spent his life inside the citadel too, sure he recognised that that came with _a lot_ of privileges but it didn’t stop one stacking up all the _what ifs._ “So, what’s the plan for this weekend? Going to bail on training I gather?”

Noctis grinned, “Prompto’s never been fishing!”

“Ah, so you’ve decided to try and rope the poor boy into it then.”

Noctis grinned, “Yep! Besides the lakes up North are gorgeous, he’s been telling me about all these great photo opportunities for _weeks.”_

“Awww, you two are so cute with your weird niche hobbies.”

“Hey!” Noctis shoved Gladio, hard enough that if it wasn’t Gladio he would have been flat on his back, but as it stood the older man just laughed. “I’m not the one reading old high fantasy on my day off.” Noctis grumped.

“ _Anyway,_ ” Noctis said, pointedly redirecting the conversation, “I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

Gladio paused for a second, he wasn’t going to say he wasn’t shocked by the offer, “You need someone who’s able to provide dinner in case your fishing skills aren’t up to scratch?”

“I’ve got Iggy for that, and _he_ is very excited about being able to cook with fresh fish.”

_Of course he was, the nerd._

“I’m asking because I want you to come.”

 


End file.
